


Herding Cats

by aeli_kindara



Series: Supernatural Codas [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s13e20 Unfinished Business, Gabriel and Rowena in the bunker, Gen, M/M, Oblivious!Sam, TFW take Gabriel and Rowena to the movies, everyone knows but Sam, hazelnut coffee is an abomination, mentions of Avengers: IW but no spoilers, the worst babysitting job, witch!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeli_kindara/pseuds/aeli_kindara
Summary: It's not like they haven't harbored powerful, cantankerous beings in the bunker before. It's just, usually they've been in some form of chains. Usually, there's been a devil's trap. Or something. And only one of them, not two.Usually, neither of them has been an archangel with a side gig as a trickster god. Usually, neither of them has been Rowena.





	Herding Cats

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains mentions of Avengers: Infinity War but no spoilers, I promise.

It's not like they haven't harbored powerful, cantankerous beings in the bunker before. It's just, usually they've been in some form of chains. Usually, there's been a devil's trap. Or something. And only one of them, not two.

Usually, neither of them has been an archangel with a side gig as a trickster god. Usually, neither of them has been Rowena.

"Okay," says Sam, the fourth time his coffee turns into soap bubbles the moment he tries to drink it. "This isn't funny."

"Oh, come on," says Gabriel. “It’s a little funny.” He's lounging on his stool at the kitchen table as if it's something between a bean bag chair and a throne.

Sam points at him warningly. "Stop it."

"Especially," Gabriel continues, "since I'm not the one doing it." He stretches, shoulders cracking, like a lazy cat.

Across the table, Rowena raises her eyebrows, and raises her little finger primly to sip her tea.

\---

"I dunno what the problem is," Dean tells him, fighting an obvious grin as he refills his own mug from the steaming pot. "It's great coffee."

"I've gotten _two sips_ of it," Sam hisses. "My mouth tastes like soap. I have to wash my mug every time."

"Hey." Dean raises his own cup in a mock toast. "Cas and I were on night duty. This one —” he flicks an eyeroll toward Gabriel — “switched rooms three different times. ‘Cause the _feng shui_ wasn’t right. And demanded new sheets every one of 'em."

Gabriel spreads his hands. “Hey, you guys are the ones who want my grace batteries recharged ASAP. You should _thank_ me —” he raises his voice over Dean’s snort — “for trying to optimize the process.”

“Then _she,_ ” Dean says over him, “showed up every time to tell him the angle between the mirror and the dresser was bad mojo. And bully Cas into making her tea.”

Rowena sniffs haughtily. "You _could_ have decided you didn't need to _guard_ us.”

"We're not guarding you," Sam says hastily, "we just —"

"Want a little heads up if you decide to screw with us." Dean gives her his most charming _I-look-forward-with-equanimity-to-your-eventual-murder-at-my-brother's-hands_ smile. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to give her her powers back," he adds, sidelong, to Sam.

"And you're the one who tried to kill Loki before Gabriel got the chance," Sam fires back. "Why am I the target here?"

"Good point," says Gabriel, and snaps his fingers.

Dean gags in the middle of a large gulp of coffee. He lurches to the kitchen sink, dropping his mug on the counter with a clatter; it wobbles, starts to tumble, but Sam lunges to catch it before it can crash to the floor.

Dean has his mouth under the faucet, streaming water into it. His face is screwed up with horror, and he spits convulsively into the sink, again, then again. When he finally straightens, it's with a whole-body shudder, disgust written in every line of his face.

Sam hovers, uncertain. When Dean finally looks over at him, he gestures impatiently, with an head-shaking, eye-widening look. _Well?_

Dean stares back at him with eyes haunted by horrors no man should ever face. "Hazelnut," he croaks.

\---

"You need," says Cas, several hours later, "to get out of this bunker."

Everyone turns to stare at him. They’re sitting around the table in the library, now. Sam has his head in his hands. He’s pretty sure his hair is currently pink. He musters his will to live, and raises his head.

"Uh, Cas," he says, "no offense, but — remember the mission? We need their help? We should maybe not kick them out after less than 24 hours?”

Cas makes an impatient noise in his throat. "I don't mean for good. I mean we're all going stir-crazy in here. We should go — see a movie, or something."

"We don't have to leave the bunker for that," Gabriel points out. "I could put you all _in_ a movie. I could do it right here."

Sam, Dean, and Cas all speak together. " _NO._ "

"I saw a beautiful tragedy recently about a woman named Hela," Rowena sighs. "A nobler story, I cannae remember."

Sam blinks. Dean blinks. Even Gabriel blinks.

"Trust me," he mutters, "she was not like that in real life."

"The Avengers," Castiel interrupts, clearly striving to right the conversational ship. "We could go see the new Avengers movie. It might be — motivational. For our coming mission." Then, when everyone stares at him, “Disparate, powerful beings putting aside their differences and coming together to save the world?”

It’s hard to tell whether he’s being earnest or world-endingly sarcastic. For a moment, no one speaks. Sam's not sure if they're all staring at each other or all avoiding each other's eyes.

Then Rowena rises suddenly, gown sweeping around her. "All right," she says, in tremulous tones. "Let's do it."

Gabriel rolls his eyes and sidles vaguely upright, as if gravity has little hold on him anyway. "Okay, fine.”

"Uh, yeah," says Sam, gaping at their sudden purpose. "Yeah, let's do it. Dean, do you — d'you want to drive?"

\---

It takes four tries and twenty minutes to achieve a seating arrangement in the Impala that makes everyone happy. Dean spends them with his head tipped back in the driver’s seat, eyes closed, utterly still amid the chaos around him. Sam spends them in every available seat, and, finally, standing outside the Impala, the other three at last contentedly arranged.

“Well, uh,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you after —”

Dean’s eyes fly open. “Oh, hell no,” he says. “You’re coming. It’s still your shift.”

In the end, Sam gets shotgun. Cas is in the middle of the backseat, looking long-suffering, sandwiched between Gabriel and Rowena.

Sam honestly feels a little bad for him. “You don’t actually have to come, Cas,” he says, even though it goes against his better judgement to reopen the floor for comment. “You could stay here. Get some peace and quiet.”

“I want to see the movie,” Cas says tightly. Dean says, "Cas has a crush on Captain America."

Cas's mouth opens in protest, then closes it again. His eyelids squint in the way that means he and Dean are about to get pissy with each other. _Here we go,_ Sam thinks.

"Don't be absurd," say Gabriel and Rowena together. "Cas has a crush on Bucky Barnes."

\---

Gabriel insists on buying candy from the gas station and smuggling it into the movie theater in their various jacket pockets. When the first gas station doesn't have what he wants, he insists on trying a second.

"I swear to God," says Sam. "It's like herding cats."

"Oh please," says Rowena. "Have you ever _tried_ herding cats?"

\---

By the time Sam's finally returned all the cats to the animal shelter they came from, it's nearly an hour into the movie, and Dean and Cas have long since peaced out. Or rather, Dean took one look at the parking lot full of meowing tortoiseshells and tabbies, grabbed Cas by the arm, declared, "It's not our shift. We'll save you seats!", and hauled him into the theater.

Honestly, the cat-herding isn’t quite as bad as Sam might have imagined, once he consents to learn a simple spell of Rowena's: hex bag and a brief incantation, and it works over short distances to return things — and animals — and people, Rowena says, though Sam doesn't love the sound of that — to the place where they rightfully belong. The greatest challenge, then, is not so much herding but _catching_ the cats, or at least getting close enough to tap them with a hex bag and mutter, “ _Reditus_.” In the end, even Gabriel helps.

Sam did break into the shelter first to check that the spell left each cat in its appropriate kennel, unharmed. He’s not a monster.

He’s sure that both Rowena and Gabriel could have accomplished the task it with barely more than a thought. Still, now that he knows the spell works, it might be enormously useful for organizing the bunker’s archives. He refuses to think about the fact that Rowena might have taught him something he actually wanted to learn.

"I guess we could go in," he says now, a little gloomily, staring up at the theater's facade. "Or just — go get a drink or something. They won't be out for nearly two hours, I guess."

"Sounds boring," Gabriel says. He snaps his fingers.

With a start, Sam looks around. They're in the bunker's library again.

"Almost as boring as watching your brother and _my_ brother dance around each other all night and day," Gabriel adds, moving to the liquor cabinet. "God, it's sickening.”

Rowena fixes Sam in her gaze, large eyes luminous with sympathy. "Being around them all the time, Samuel, I don't know how you stand it."

"I don't," stammers Sam. "Dean and Cas — what?"

" _Oh._ " Rowena's smile hollows in surprise, then curdles with delight. "Oh, _Samuel._ It's a little late, but time you learned the facts of life."

"Strap in," says Gabriel, and slides him a drink.

\---

By the time Dean and Cas get home, Sam's on his fourth whiskey — fourth? maybe sixth — and feeling distinctly queasy. Rowena and Gabriel have gone off somewhere together, and he feels that he should maybe be keeping an eye on them, but he's too numb to bring himself to care. The lights of the bunker waver when he turns his gaze up to see his brother start down the stairs.

"Don't be an idiot, Cas," Dean is saying. "Besides, you're way better-looking than that Chris Everett guy."

_Oh God,_ Sam thinks. _It's true. All of it is true._

“Evans,” says Cas, closing the door with a clang. “Chris _Evans._ ”

“Yeah, whatever.” The tone of Dean’s voice is unbearably fond. “Too many Chrises in those movies anyway.”

Sam still has the hex bag in his pocket. He can’t take this. " _Reditus,_ " he mutters. " _Reditus sum._ "

"Heya, Sammy," Dean is saying, with a broad grin. "How were the cats?"

The room flickers around him. Then Dean is gone, and Sam's on his own bed, sinking back onto the covers, away from brothers and angels and witches and shocking revelations and anything but blessed, blessed silence.

Maybe he'll have real coffee in the morning. He's pretty sure he knows how Rowena's doing it now.

With a groan, Sam turns over, covers his head with a pillow, and wills himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cass and Nat for indulging and inspiring my oddity. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
